


Carry On

by Astrid_Rogersdottir



Series: Wayward Son [1]
Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types, Pocket Monsters: Sword & Shield | Pokemon Sword & Shield Versions
Genre: Adoption, F/F, F/M, Foster Care, Foster Parents, Found Family, Fuck the foster care system, Health Issues, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Child Abuse, Implied Suicide Attempt, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Jaxon is a fic STD and we all know it, Jaxon is a thorn in Mike's side, Lost Child, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Multi, Other, Rose is a shit foster parent, Runaway, Seriously guys Mike's childhood is fucked and the abuse is graphic, Trust Issues, implied suicidal thoughts, talks of trauma, trust building
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-05
Updated: 2021-01-04
Packaged: 2021-03-15 13:08:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28564065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Astrid_Rogersdottir/pseuds/Astrid_Rogersdottir
Summary: A boy who has never known the love and comfort of a family that wanted him for more than a year, constantly on the move and distrusting of anyone with a modicum of authority over him.a family that still grieves over their missing son they refuse to stop searching for, having more than enough love and patience to bring a feral and scared teen into their home.What happens when these two come together, and why does this teen seem to share so many similarities with someone he knows nothing about?(Yes i suck at summaries)
Relationships: Dande | Leon/Kibana | Raihan/Nezu | Piers, OC/OC, Raihan/Leon/Piers
Series: Wayward Son [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2092851
Comments: 1
Kudos: 4





	Carry On

**Author's Note:**

> I will put this warning now for those sensitive to the topics of Abuse, neglect and graphic depictions:
> 
> Please DO NOT force yourself to read this if the idea of a teen going into graphic detail of his abuse and neglect growing up makes you physically uncomfortable. Mike's upbringing was seriously fucked up (No sexual abuse so do not worry on that) and he will be brought on to speak about it in later chapters. So please, if talks of physical abuse, graphic depictions of violence towards children, neglect, references to suicidal thoughts or attempts, or other sensitive topics revolving around children and older teens makes you uncomfortable and upset..just back away from this story now.

_ I fucked up this time. _

This was the constant thought running through Mike’s head as he weaved his way through the narrow streets leading him out of Wyndon. The imposing presence of Rose tower, the nauseating arena and the cramped streets were swiftly shrinking behind him as his newly “acquired'' vehicle carried him to the city limits, and towards anywhere but the bullshit behind him.

This always happened to him.

For as long as he could remember he was always moving, always running. Never in the same place for very long. He’d be brought in, situated with someone’s family only to be thrown out when either he was finally comfortable with them or the animosity and abuse got too much and he lashed out and was deemed ‘problematic’ or a ‘difficult child’. Same old story; same old outcome.

But this time; this time he  _ really  _ fucked up.

He had managed to be placed with the chairman of all people, kids just like him would have killed for his spot. To say that Chairman Rose was their foster parent and was caring for their needs. For many of them that would be it, they’d be his child; but not Mike. The pressure, the demands, the constant strings attached for the most basic of requests. He couldn’t stand the leash that was slowly starting to strangle him..So he snapped and retaliated against him. Now, here he was, speeding down the road in a car that didn’t even belong to him, or the chairman, as he tried to escape from the inevitable police interrogation and case workers harping on him for screwing up yet  _ another _ potential home prospect. He could already hear some of the many comments from those damn paper pushers.

_ “Sent back again Michael?” _

_ “What did you do this time?” _ _   
_ _ “Can’t you go one home without causing an incident?” _

_ “It's a wonder how you haven’t been kicked out of the system and put into a group home yet.” _

He’s heard it all before, and he honestly didn’t know how much more he could take. All this pain, false hope and heartache from a life of being tossed around like an unwanted hand me down only good for a brief use before being tossed aside again was finally wearing his young, tired, body down. He punched the punch steering wheel in pent up frustration, tears threatening to spill over steel blue eyes.

_ “Why am I not good enough?”  _ He screamed in his head. Why did every family he was in either want to hurt him or got tired of him? Why was he always taken from the good ones by the system? Did they not want him too and just didn’t tell him? Did the system just love jerking him around?  _ WHY? _ He couldn’t keep doing this anymore, His heart couldn’t do it. 

He looked up into the rearview mirror, Wyndon slowly fading away behind him, eyes now dead and determined.

“I won’t. Not anymore.” With that affirmation Mike pressed his foot harder against the accelerator and sped towards his final destination.

_ ```````````````````````````````````````````````````````````` _

After what felt like an eternity, maybe nothing more than an hour, Mike finally could see the city limits of Galar’s “Favorite” city of Spikemuth. 

_ “Home sweet Home”.  _ The thought was bittersweet in Mike’s head. All the pain and suffering began here. “It ends tonight. No more running, no more moving...no more false hope” Mike muttered as he drove through the back alley streets of his childhood towards the even more dilapidated part of town. Towards where the nightmare began; towards home.

After a few more minutes Mike finally killed the engine outside a one story home that looked like it was one gust away from collapsing on itself. He looked towards it with a grim smile that didn’t meet his eyes as he stepped out of the car and walked towards the remnants of a shabby looking chain link fence. “ Hope whoever owns this ride won’t mind where the cops will find it.” Mike muttered as he traced a finger across the hood of the car.

_ “Not that it will matter in the next few minutes.”  _ Mike pulled his hand back from the car as that cold bit of reality came rushing through his mind. He looked towards the ramshackled house one more time before letting out a heavy sigh, and began trudging pace towards it like a man to his own execution.

  
  


It was difficult to find a way into the boarded up piece of shit but after a few minutes he found a busted out window to climb through and landed right into the old living room.

After dusting himself off, and inspecting himself for any cuts or punctures from any needles left behind in the dump, Mike took a look around his old house of horrors. The chill that ran down his spine was almost instinctual as he walked around the old house. If he listened carefully he could swear he could hear the faint whispers of a scared little child crying, or screaming, on the wind in this place. His hand reflexively went to rub at the left side of his head as his eyes landed on an old rusty heating fixture in the corner of the living room. He shook his head and made his slow march towards the rooms in the back of the house. It didn’t matter how many years passed he’d always remember; first door on the right. His escape, and his cell.The space his parents ‘graciously’ allowed him to have so he wouldn’t be in the way. This was the room, in this very house, where it all began. It was only fitting this is where it would all end as well.

_ A ghost always returned to its old haunting grounds. _

__ He wasted no time as soon as he entered his old room. He set his bag down and began to pull out what he would need for this. He was thankful he still had that escape rope from his years of camping in the wild area in between homes. Now it would be used to help him escape one last time. As he began to get everything set up his eyes landed on his set of Dusk balls nestled closely to his bag. A pang of guilt filled him as he looked them over. Each Pokemon in those balls had been with him for so long and got him through so much, and now he was leaving them..but in his mind it was for the best. They didn’t deserve to be tossed around like this. They deserved a better trainer than himself. He quickly grabbed a piece of paper and scribbled a few words down and tucked the note securely under the middle dusk ball; with his dearest companion inside. When they are found he can only hope whoever does find him will give them the home they deserved.

He wasted no time after that, his hands working on autopilot as he worked the knots and loop for the rope. After a few minutes, and a few test tugs, Mike stared numbly at his handiwork.

“This is it...It will finally be over” Mike took one last look at his team nestled by his bag and smiled forlornly at them “I am so sorry guys. I hope..I hope your new trainer treats you guys right” he whispered as he stepped up to his makeshift gallows. He was breathing heavily, taking in his last breaths before the end, his body shaking with both fear and trepidation at what he was about to do and what was waiting for him afterwards. He gulped down one last breathe before stepping towards his step, but before he could even get the loop around his neck he was brought out of his trance by the sound of something crashing through what would have been the direction of the front door.

“Shite!”

Mike immediately stepped back and away from the noose, favoring to hide in the shadows of his old room as he listened to what could be the sound of heavy boots stomping haphazardlky through the front room.

“I swear, when i find the little shitebag that stole me car I’m going to give’em a piece o’me mind for choosin’  _ this  _ raticate hole as their hideout!” The voice growled in annoyance as they started towards the back rooms.

This was just fucking great. The owner of the car had tracked him here, and was in his old house.

And he was heading straight for his room.

**Author's Note:**

> After months of planning, head canons and screeching at blank word documents, chapter one is finally here. I am unsure how long this story will be but it will be going through the shenanigans and trials of my OC, Michael Coreman, and his interactions with the OCs of a few of my friends from our discord server and the people of the Sword and Shield universe. This will be a part of a larger series and short stories will delve deeper into Mike and his upbringing up until he joins the O'Shae family. This story will be between the ages of 15-18 for Mike.
> 
> Most OCs he will run into belong to me.
> 
> Arabella and Zack and the fic STD known as Jaxon belong to https://archiveofourown.org/users/YumishioriRhul/pseuds/YumishioriRhul  
> any references to Dynamax sensitivity or Zack's twin Diane and commissioner Jeanette belong to https://archiveofourown.org/users/KizaRose/pseuds/KizaRose  
> Rowan, and the shared custody of Arabella, Belongs to https://archiveofourown.org/users/myliesboundbythread   
> Dorothea, in later chapters, belongs to https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vulnonapix/pseuds/Vulnonapix   
> Check these guys out they do amazing work! (And thank you to those lovely peeps in the server for smacking me with the content whap stick in the server...and fueling my insanity for this whole thing)


End file.
